


I am Yours and Always Will Be

by IRememberThereWasMist47 (Prixin47)



Category: Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M, Hypnosis, Light BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 10:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21097841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prixin47/pseuds/IRememberThereWasMist47
Summary: The Phantom experiments with mind control and learns he's found more than he bargained for.





	I am Yours and Always Will Be

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place between "The Phantom of the Opera" and "I Remember / Stranger Than You Dreamt It" in Act I of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera. Videos of the referenced material appear interspersed with the text.

She was on the edge of something profound now. Her breath would have come in the barest of gasps were it not for the control he had drilled into her over their months of careful study.

Her legs were braced, rooting her to the stone floor beneath her feet. Her abdomen was taught and full of air. Her voice floated up through her golden, open throat.

"Sing for me!" he cried.

One last spinning, ringing note escaped her open lips and echoed into silence.

Her mind was blank. The pleasure she derived from her soaring voice reverberated along her limbs. The back of her neck tingled, sending pleasant rivulets of sensation trickling over her body like warm water, cascading over the small of her back, her nipples, and the curve of her bottom.

She was aware only of a peaceful, compliant, fuzzy feeling in her head and a pleasure that had taken root in her low belly. She breathed in as he had taught her and felt it expand and grow warmer still.

He was singing now, his eyes fixed upon her, unwavering. Menace and adoration were equally palpable in that endless gaze.

"What a good girl," he thought as he stood behind her, caressing her soft face and the delicate, exposed skin above her neckline.

His voice rose and fell gently in a melodic induction he had written for precisely this moment. She was secretly possessed indeed, open to him past all boundary, reason, or propriety. The pleasure he took in touching her at long last was matched only by the pleasure rising through his heart. His whole being was suffused with the music of the night. He was as much under its spell as she was.

"How appealingly dangerous," he thought.

As his song neared its zenith, he pulled back a heavy sailcloth drape to reveal a mirror frame with the glass removed. Behind it stood a mannequin in a frilly wedding gown. He turned to look at Christine and, as she beheld her future in the mirror, he crooned the words that would induce her total surrender.

"Help me make the music of the night."

She collapsed and he barely caught her in time. He had not realized that the induction would work quite so well.

He carried her to his bed, piled high with soft cushions and arranged her gently there. She settled into the bed as if she were part of it, sinking deeply into the plushness beneath her.

"I could watch her sleep all night," he thought before silently chiding himself for this unexpected ripple of genuine tenderness. No, he had other plans.

He leaned over her, breathing in the delightful scent of her hair.

"Christine," he whispered, "can you hear me?"

She breathed deeply before replying. "Yes, Angel," she whispered, more sigh than speech.

"Good girl," he said, grinning. "I'm going to count backwards from five to one. When I reach the number one, I'm going to snap my fingers. You will remain in this soft, floating, uninhibited place, but you will feel awake and alert, and entirely susceptible to my will.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, Angel," she whispered again.

"Good girl," he replied. "Five, four, three, two, one!" He snapped his fingers and her eyes snapped open like those of a mechanical doll.

Her eyes were glassy, the pupils severely dilated. Her face and body were soft, receptive. She looked at him, awaiting instruction.

"How do you feel, Christine?" he asked, stroking her curls away from her upturned face.

"Soft," she murmured in reply, a gentle smile playing on her perfect lips.

"Good girl," he said yet again, and watched with joy as she blushed and wriggled with the pleasure of his praise. He particularly enjoyed the motion with which her hips swiveled as she settled back into the cushions.

"May I kiss you, Christine?"

"Yes, Angel."

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips gently to hers. Her response was more intense than he had anticipated. Instinctively, her arms came up around him. Her hands caressed his back. He found himself pulled practically on top of her, and the erotic charge that had until recently been a mere undercurrent to the proceedings swelled immeasurably, nearly popping the buttons off his best evening trousers with its sudden ferocity.

He pulled his face away from hers, gently kissing and nuzzling her soft neck, feeling her pulse strong at her throat.

She groaned softly and pressed her hips up to meet him. The unexpected increase in pressure against his aroused cock rendered him momentarily speechless. His legs went weak. He wanted to fuck her so desperately in that moment. It took all his self control to slow down.

"Oh, Christine!" he whispered. "Good, good girl!"

He pulled his hips away from her and was delighted to hear a whimper of disappointment and longing from his prone pupil.

"Did you like that, Christine?" he asked, firmly establishing eye contact with her again.

"Oh yes," she whispered, smiling, blushing. "Yes, Angel."

"Tell me, Christine, do you ever touch yourself? Do you…please yourself?"

She smiled softly. "Yes, Angel. In the darkness of my dormitory, you are always there inside my mind. I imagine you have come for our lesson. I imagine your hands guiding me through the rise and fall of the music. I imagine…" she trailed off.

"What more do you imagine, Christine?" he asked, genuinely unsure of what she would say.

"You would not like it, Angel."

Now he was deeply intrigued. He had taken her for a simpleton. A beautiful, deeply talented, but fundamentally simple canary that he could cage and coax to sing on command; but this placid babe in the woods might posess hidden depths.

"Tell me, Christine", he pressed her, making a motion with his hand that deepened her trance and drew her gaze intently to the tips of his fingers.

"You would not like it, Angel, teacher, friend, and I fear your wrath."

No one alive had dared to anger him twice; but he had never once turned his anger on Christine, and yet she knew to fear him. Again, hidden depths.

He seized her wrists abruptly and pulled them roughly up. She meekly followed, her back arching, her throat exposed. He pinned her wrists over her head. His breath was hot on her face.

"I am to be worshipped!" he hissed in a voice laden with peril, "and yes, feared. But," he released her hands, "you have nothing to fear from me."

He stroked her face gently again and in a soft, honeyed voice said, "tell me."

"I imagine," she whispered, "that Raoul watches us."

"The Viscount? Your lover?" he asked, suddenly, fiercely possessive.

"Not my lover, though he wishes it."

He relaxed. He had nothing to fear here, not yet anyway. She belonged to him still.

"What does he do as he watches us?"

"He pleases himself," she said, blushing and wriggling enticingly once more. "He likes seeing that I belong to you." She paused, sighing languidly, "he envies the pleasure we give one another, and this gives him pleasure."

He sat back to contemplate this confusing, but potentially promising turn. "An ingenue is one thing, " he thought brightly, "but she is more than this. She is a predator like me. Underneath her purity, there lives a wolf who has all but convinced herself that she is a lamb."

Her beautiful eyes were dark and open, gazing at him, patiently she awaited her next instruction.

"Christine, have you ever seen a man please himself?"

"No," she replied, giggling. "But I've heard some of the girls talking." She mimicked the hand motion he knew too well.

"Christine," he said, a grin of satisfaction tugging at his lips, "show me how you please yourself."

"Yes, Angel."

At once, she compliantly began to trail her fingertips along her soft skin, pulling up her skirt to reveal white pantaloons.

She teased herself expertly through the fabric of her undergarments with her right hand while her left absentmindedly fondled her nipple through the fabric of her dress.

He could smell her arousal. His cock grew more insistent still. He adjusted it gently to a more comfortable position inside his trousers but again gasped at the sudden contact. He allowed his hand to linger there, gently caressing this bulging evidence of his growing desperation to be inside her.

"Patience," he counseled himself, and removed his hand.

Christine's right hand was now working its way down the waistband of her pantaloons. She licked her lips and groaned as her fingertips made gentle contact with her clit.

"He watched her play, taking deep, careful breaths to slow his racing heart and soothe the pounding desire suffusing the core of his body. His cock felt huge.

"Christine," he entreated, "may I taste you?"

"Yes, Angel," she replied, looking at him with those soft eyes. "Yes, please Angel."

He slid her pantaloons neatly down and off, then positioned himself between her thighs.

"Good girl" he murmured, looking into her eyes before lowering his tongue to her clit.

Her moans and sighs rapidly reached a feverish pitch, and his desire kept pace. He could not stop himself from grinding his cock forcefully into the bed beneath him. He could feel fluid dripping from the tip, soaking his trousers and staining the bed cushions.

Christine's swollen clit and slick cunt were endlessly fascinating to him. He found himself enraptured by the way her body moved when he pressed the flat of his tongue to the shaft of her clit and licked it from side to side.

"Angel," she moaned, "please."

He stopped.

"Please what?" he asked.

"Please fuck me."

"You want me to fuck you?" His voice dripped with pleasure and a sort of gentle condescension.

"Yes. Yes please, Angel!"

Her hand had strayed once more to her clit and she was rubbing it in slow circles.

He wiped his lips and brought his face level with hers. She kissed him and reached unexpectedly for the bulge in the front of his trousers.

He nearly came when her hand made contact, even through the fabric of his trousers. He steadied himself and stood.

"You want my cock," he said and smiled, "and you shall have it."

He stripped off his suit and stood before her, naked save for his mask, his cock more rigid than it had ever been.

She eyed it hungrily.

He lay down on top of her once again and kissed her softly.

"Are you ready to drop your defenses, Christine? Do you want to succumb to me?"

"Yes, Angel."

"Good girl."

He pressed the tip of his cock to the opening of her cunt and they both moaned simultaneously. She was warm and wet and he could feel his tight control slipping.

He thrust himself inside her and she shuddered. His immediate urge to thrust was tremendous, but again he mastered himself and instead began grinding his hips in those slow circles he'd seen her make.

She responded by grinding back into him. She was growing slicker still. Her wetness ran out and drenched his balls. He felt her clench.

Her hand came to his face and pulled him into another kiss. Her tongue ran over his and her hips changed rhythm from languid grinding to earnest, desperate pressing motions.

Her body was begging him for release.

Then, she removed his mask with one gentle swipe of her tiny hand.

It happened so quickly. He had no time to object. And her hypnotized eyes stared up at him, unafraid, adoring.

He felt a clench deep inside her and watched her worshipful eyes grow intense. He lost control at last and thrust mercilessly into her, racing into the waves of her orgasm to induce his own.

He awoke to find her gently stroking his chest with her fingertips. Her eyes looked dreamily into his and she sighed. Panicked, his hand flew to his face and found no mask there.

He writhed around, found the mask discarded on a pile of cushions, and hastily put it back on.

He could feel her behind him and turned to see her mouth opening to protest.

He quickly made a hand motion which he knew would master her in an instant and her eyes focused intently on his fingertips.

"Good girl," he whispered again as she relaxed back into the cushions.

"She is too powerful," he thought ruefully, "and she wears a mask even more complex than my own. I can only imagine what she is capable of."

At that thought, unbidden, his very recently spent cock began to swell again.

He was dangerously drawn to her, and he could not hide this hunger or shield it from her prying eyes. He felt his fury growing along with his desire.

He noticed that Christine's hips were still rocking sensuously and the necessities of the moment drove all anger, shame and fear of exposure from his mind.

"Christine, I am going to touch you now."

"Yes, Angel."

His fingers traced the curve of her thigh upward to the damp nest of curly hair surrounding her cunt. He tugged a section of hair playfully and she moaned.

Deftly, his fingers snaked between her warm lips and found her still deliciously wet, both with her own arousal and with the product of his own intense first pleasure.

He dipped his fingers into the opening of her cunt and massaged the wetness upward, fingering the length of her slick, engorged clit.

Her legs tensed and she groaned hungrily.

"So soon," he thought.

"Christine," he said, "be a good girl now and relax for me. Let your legs and hips melt into the bed. Let the pleasure float down onto you, let it build slowly, like layers of softly falling snow."

All the tension went out of her body.

"Good girl," he intoned.

He made gentle circles with the pads of his dominant left fingers and inserted the tip of his right forefinger into her opening. She whimpered with pleasure and he felt her legs momentarily tense before melting once more into the bed.

"Good girl, Christine. Very good indeed."

He felt her soft hand lazily caressing the shaft of his cock. Even with the rest of her body still under his control, she demanded this with her own mind, her own strong will.

He decided to allow it.

As he continued his careful ministrations, she playfully stroked the length of him before seeking the droplets of slick fluid that beaded at the tip. One by one, she massaged them all around the head of his cock, and with the pad of her thumb, stroked the swollen ridge at the very front of the head where she could tell he most ached for her touch.

He let a groan escape his lips and closed his eyes involuntarily.

That was all the opening she needed. Disinhibited by her hypnotized state and her arousal, Christine flipped him onto his back. She straddled him and slid down onto his cock with one fluid, dancer's motion. Her tiny limbs were much stronger than they appeared.

Now astride him, with his cock deeply seated within her, she tore off her soft shift and sat upon him naked.

Even as his mind reeled and sought to regain the upper hand, he was overcome for a moment by the glory of her unclothed form: the round, high tits with nipples erect and peaky; the soft swoon of her waist; the gentle swell of her belly.

She was grinding her hips in lusty circles now, an indulgent, hedonistic smile brightening her lovely face.

Regaining some semblance of control at last, he reached up and pulled her down to him. Their mouths me hotly and they both shuddered as this additional contact piqued both of their arousal.

Roughly, he placed one hand on her lower back and the other on her right breast. He pulled her back into an arch before devouring the nipple, sucking hard on it as her hips worked deliciously on his cock.

She moaned, an intonation that ended in a high squeak as he pulled at her nipple with surprising force.

She looked down at him attached to her breast, and as his eyes met hers, again removed his mask. Once again, her unflinching, uninhibited gaze scanned his ravaged face. He had been seen thoroughly and she still hungered for him.

He parted himself from her nipple and wound a fist through her long hair, working up to the crown of her head. Using his own wiry strength, he lifted her hips and turning, pinned her to the bed beneath him.

He abandoned control. She wanted him raw and uncovered, and that was what she would receive. He fucked her freely, pounding his rigid cock between her legs. Her head was bent backwards at an almost dangerous angle, and he yanked it to one side and sank his teeth into the muscular flesh where her neck met her shoulder.

Again, he felt the warm gush of fluid from inside her. Again he felt her trembling from within.

She liked this. It spurred him on.

"You're going to come now, Christine," he hissed roughly into her ear.

"Yes, Angel" she replied, her voice quavering before uncontrolled groans of pleasure escaped her mouth.

Once again, he allowed her orgasm to draw out his own. Once again, he spurted deeply into her hot, spasming cunt and felt his control leave him.

As he finished, he felt still more fluid gush around him as her trembles began again.

He held her tightly, thrusting in time with her spasming cunt. He whispered, "come" once again and she was rocked by a third, vivid orgasm.

As the tsunami of sensation subsided, Christine found herself once again in a relaxed, fuzzy, happy state.

Still inside her, he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"You have been a very, very good girl, Christine. I am pleased with you."

A smile crossed her glowing face.

"You will sleep now for a time and then awaken refreshed. Your fantasies have unwound here, and now you are no longer burdened by them. You do not need Raoul to watch us. You do not lust for anyone but me. You are here to sing for me, to serve me. Otherwise, you are a babe in the woods. A lost and frightened lamb. You are mine, and always will be. Do you understand?"

"I am yours and always will be," she repeated.

"Good, good girl," he whispered, and withdrew his cock from her.

"Sleep now," he said.


End file.
